


Bad boys, bad boys, what 'ya gonna do?

by kittiesinthetardis (orphan_account)



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Police, Angst, Bad Boys, Boys Kissing, Crimes & Criminals, Detective Louis, Detective Zayn, Detectives, Harry is a bit insane, M/M, Some smut... probably, they're all idiots.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-01
Updated: 2013-05-18
Packaged: 2017-12-10 01:49:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 13,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/780379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/kittiesinthetardis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They've just nabbed one of the most dangerous criminals in the country.<br/>Detective Louis Tomlinson might just be in love.<br/>Or in trouble...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Wherever I go, trouble seems to follow.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not really sure what this is?  
> Please note: I'm not from the UK, nor am I in the police. So this is all just made up and probably seriously wrong. Oops.  
> Don't judge me.

“You’re telling me… that you _got_ him?”

“Uh – yes, _yes_ Sir!”

“How on _earth_ did you manage _that_?” he just wasn’t convinced, this was seemingly impossible, they’d been after him for _four_ years!

“He flipped his car during a chase, Sir,”

All this time and he crashes his sodding _car_? Captain Lestrade laughed at that, “Get him to the station, Payne – and _make_ sure he’s bloody well restrained!”

“Yes, Sir!”

The Captain hung up, and smirked. They _finally_ fucking got Harry Styles. 

\----

Half the station stood outside, waiting for _his_ arrival. There were flood lights, due to it being the middle of the bloody night and SWAT teams had barricaded the streets from reporters and civilians.

When Detective Louis Tomlinson first laid eyes on the captive, he was conflicted to say the least. Could this kid _really_ be a psychopath?

The truck pulled up, and the men surrounded the back. The doors were pulled open, and the curly-haired lad, not much younger than Louis himself, was escorted out.

He was in a straight jacket form of a contraption, and two men grasping hold of him at each side. He had rips in his tight – _really fucking tight_ – black skinny jeans, revealing large cuts and grazes – which he got from his crash, no doubt, and his black leather jacket was scratched up too. He even had some deep scrapes on his face. They looked painful.

Oh wow, _his face_ – Louis was not going to keep looking, or describe the boy, no, because this was not the _fucking_ Notebook, nor was he was not going to eye-rape a criminal.

The kid held his head high as he was taken into the building, almost _relishing_ in the looks of terror he got.

Louis definitely did _not_ miss the way this boy looked him over and licked at his split bottom lip.

\----

The boy – the infamous, Harry Styles – was taken into an interrogation room. The halls were patrolled by SWAT and policemen at all times, and Harry wasn’t allowed more than a few feet away from a guard.

Louis strolled to watch his interrogation, along with his partner Zayn.

“He’s pretty fit, for a psycho,”

Louis swatted at Zayn.

Captain Lestrade seated himself at the seat opposite Harry.

“How lovely to see you again, Captain,” Harry said, smirking. Louis thought he looked far too pleased to be in there.

“Yes, Hello, Mr. Styles,”

“Always so formal; are you here to tell me I’m going to jail?”

“Once you confess to your crimes, but whether you go to jail or not isn’t really up to me.”

His face fell, “What crimes?” he raised an eyebrow, feigning innocence.

Lestrade’s expression was hard, “You know what crimes, Mr. Styles,”

He chuckle and looked smug all of a sudden, “Oh I _know_ , I just like hearing you say them,”

The Captain picked up a sheet of paper, and began reading.

“You have been charged with five murders,”

“Ah yes,” the boy nodded.

“Theft, robbery – _armed_ robbery,”

“Mm, go on,”

“Vandalism, arson,”

“I _do_ like fire,”

“Homicide; and mass murder,”

Harry nodded, considering this, but then shook his head, “Nope, doesn’t sound like me,”

“Mr. Styles, it would be in your best interest to cooperate. You do realize you have evaded the police on more than six other occasions –”

“It’s _hardly_ my fault you couldn’t catch me,”

Lestrade leaned a little closer, eyes narrowing, “You’ll be going away for a _long_ time – and I think that’s pretty _bad_ for a boy barely out of his teens.”

Harry actually beamed at that, like he knew something the Captain didn’t – which, he probably did.

Lestrade stood up, looking livid, “Get him in a holding cell, chain him up or something – and _keep_ a patrolled watch on him.”

“Have a good night, darling!” Harry called and Louis thought that if his hands weren’t strapped to himself, he’d have blown the Captain a kiss.

\----

“You want a coffee?”

Zayn shook his head, eyes still on his paper work. Louis rolled his eyes and wandered down the halls to the staff room. It was the early hours of the morning, so the place was usually pretty empty. Plus, most people would be dawdling outside Style’s cage.

There was one person in the staff room though, and it made Louis’ heart threaten to stop. Or jump out his throat.

“Hello, Detective,”

A _criminal_ was sitting at one of the tables, feet propped onto another chair, flipping through a stupid celebrity gossip magazine.

But it wasn’t just any old criminal, no, it was Harry _fucking_ Styles.

“Kettles just boiled,” he told him before going back to his magazine.

Louis was confused – and mildly terrified.

“Is… is this a _joke_? H-how did you get out?”

Harry looked up, “Not a joke, I just wanted tea,” he said casually, tossing the magazine aside and let his eyes graze over Louis, “Detective Tomlinson, yes?”

Louis swallowed thickly as Harry stalked over to him slowly.

“You’re pretty new here aren’t you? Good though, from what I’ve seen and heard,” he shrugged, coming closer.

This boy was two years younger, and he was fucking taller than Louis. Why was everyone taller? _Not important right now._

“You n-need to go back to your cell,” he said. He tried his hardest to sound stern – he _really_ did.

Harry pouted, stopping a few feet away from him, looking challenging and _very_ intimidating for a lanky lad with curly hair, “Really? And how do you plan to get me in there?”

He whipped out his gun, and pointed it at the boy’s face. But Harry didn’t even flinch, just smirked and kept his gaze trained on Louis’ face.

“Wow, didn’t see _that_ one coming,”

Louis felt the air rush out of him, and then he was on the ground, lacking a gun and Harry Styles was straddling him.

“You’re a smart lad, Louis, that probably wasn’t your _best_ plan,”

“Worth a shot,” he tried to shrug.

He smirked at that, “Cheeky, my favourite,”

Harry tossed the gun between his hands, and then gave Louis a menacing look. He could help the hitch in his breath when he slowly ground his hips onto Louis’.

“ _Stop_ ,” he attempted a growl, but it just came out breathy.

Harry did it again, and again, and it didn’t take much for him to get him worked up. Louis didn’t realize fit, psychotic criminals were his type.

“I wonder what the Captain would think if he saw you right now, getting hard underneath an _insane_ criminal,” his breathing was a bit off, clearly just as affected as Louis.

He was so turned on; so, so, _so_ turned on – so… _fuck it_.

“I don’t think you’re as insane as you’d like everyone to think,” he bucked his hips up once, and grabbed a hold of Harry’s hips.

“You _are_ smart,” Harry teased, “so unfortunate that the team has to lose you,”

Louis froze.

“ _What_?”

Harry swiftly flipped him, pinning Louis onto his stomach, mashing the side of his face onto the floor and cuffing his hands behind his back. He was using _Louis’_ fucking hand cuffs too.

The boy wriggled on Louis’ thighs, and leaned down to whisper in his ear, “You’re officially off the force, love,”

“You’re going to kill me?” Louis asked; voice shaky and small.

Harry chuckled, “No way, you’re _far_ too pretty for that. You’re coming with me, Detective,”


	2. Just one yesterday.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry takes Louis hostage.  
> Sort of?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided to add more to this because people asked and I guess I had some more ideas...  
> Yep. Hopefully its alright.

Louis was sort of in a daze; being dragged through the police station halls by a maniac, feet shuffling underneath him at their own accord. Louis was only twenty-three, but he had been appointed Detective for a reason; he was smart, quick on his feet, and didn’t panic. Right now, he was none of those things.

“Where is everyone?” Louis asked quietly, once he noticed they hadn’t _actually_ passed anyone.

Harry shrugged, “Dunno, coffee break?”

“Um,” he swallowed, “did – did you kill everyone?”

Harry scoffed, sending him a side-way’s glance, “No, ‘course not, what kind of person do you think I am?”

There was just a _smidge_ of sarcasm in his voice.

They continued onwards, until they reached the front doors. Okay, now Louis was extremely confused. Was this a dream? There was actually no one around. There had been SWAT trucks, and police cars all outside the building – and now… no one? Strange.

“Seriously,” Louis said, sense coming back to him, “where the _fuck_ is everyone?”

Harry just kept tugging him along, smiling sweetly, “I’m a clever girl.”

Louis would’ve rolled his eyes, had he not been so confused and frightened. His hands were pinching in the cuffs, and his arms were aching something chronic – but he was pretty sure Harry wouldn’t give a shit if he mentioned the pain.

They came to a stop suddenly, making Louis bumping into Harry. It was very quiet, and before Louis could ask why they’d stopped, a car was making its way down the street. Louis heart rate sped up, probably going about as fast as this car. But he wasn’t so afraid when a sleek black Range Rover pulled up, with Justin Bieber’s ‘Somebody To Love’ blasting on the stereo.

Harry grinned at his confused face, shoving him toward the car. The tall boy pulled open the door, revealing a blonde driver.

“Sup, Hazza!” the blonde grinned, Irish accent very obvious.

“Nialler,” Harry grinned, all but _throwing_ Louis into the back seats, and following him in. He spared a thought to how much he liked be man-handled, but quickly dismissed it.

Harry leaned forward and fist-bumped the Irishman, who squinted at Louis, “Who’s this then?”

“I liked him, so I brought him.” Harry said, like that was actually an okay thing to do.

‘ _Nialler’_ nodded, “Fair enough.”

Oh good, they’re both crazy.

\----

Louis had nearly shed a tear in the car; not just because Niall kept playing the Biebs, but his arms were seriously twisting at the wrong angle, and this was not good for his shoulder. His physiotherapist was going to go bat-shit.

Was he even going to make it back home?

He was jostled out of his thoughts when Harry was tugging on the front of his jacket lapels, motioning him out of the car. His knees definitely did _not_ give out in nerves, and his heart definitely did _not_ flutter when Harry steadied him.

Harry pushed him forward, lightly this time, and Louis started walking toward the house – sorry, _no_ , not _house_ , more like – mansion. Seriously, this place looked like it belonged to Brad Pitt, not a few criminals.

Harry must’ve noticed him gaping like an idiot, because he chuckled, “Surprised, then?”

“This is your house.” Louis stated lamely.

“Not quite, it’s actually Niall’s – but I stay here enough to have my own room.” He shrugged.

“Right.”

Niall muttered some sort of curse, “Get the fuck inside, I’m freezing ma’ nads off!” he grumbled, wandering over to what looked like a front door.

Harry ushered him along once again.

The door was opened by a _fucking butler_ , and the house was legit amazing. Louis’ flat wasn’t exactly low-class, but _fuck_ ; he’d give his soul for a place like this. He glanced at Harry, who was at his side, looking sickly pale, but Louis thought he was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

Maybe he would give up his soul sooner than he thought.

\----

“Are you hungry?” Harry asked after coming back from a private conversation with Niall.

Louis just shrugged, wanting to be purposely unhelpful.

Harry sighed at him and called someone into the kitchen; a maids name, perhaps? He was proven right when an older woman came into the kitchen, smiling softly, “Yes, Harry dear?”

Harry smiled back at her, “Babs, would you fix something up for Louis?”

Babs nodded, “Course, love,”

“Thanks,” Harry turned to look at Louis, eyeing him up thoughtfully before wandering behind him and unlocking the cuffs.

Louis almost sobbed in relief – until Harry cuffed one hand to a decorative piece of the bench. Louis glared; vaguely wondering if that was deliberately put in for this purpose.

Harry smirked, “Can’t have you running off while I’m in the shower, can we?” he patted Louis on the cheek, and walked away, throwing a: “Behave!” over his shoulder.

Babs didn’t even ask Louis what he wanted, just made him a cup of tea – how he likes it too – and started making him an omelet. He liked this woman, he decided. She looked like a nice grandma, one that fed you cookies and knitted you beanies.

“So,” she said, after placing the food in front of Louis and settling herself across the breakfast bar with her own cuppa, “you’re a Detective?”

“Yeah, Harry tell you that, then?” He asked, picking up the fork in his left hand, since the right one was cuffed. This would be difficult.

She scoffed, “I’m not as daft as I look, you know. Your badge is on your jeans, love.”

He hadn’t realized how hungry he’d been. Shit this food was good.

“Oh, right,” Louis said softly, he waited a few moments, before plucking up the courage and asking, “are you a hostage or something?”

“No darling, I’m just the cook.” She smiled.

Louis nodded, wondering why on earth someone would work here, knowing what those boys did.

“I’m here because I like it here.”

Louis also wondered if she was a mind reader.

She sighed, “Those boys aren’t as bad as you’d think, really – Harry’s a lovely young man, despite what he does.”

“He kills people.” Louis stated.

Babs rolled her eyes, sighing again, “I suppose you’d think that, being a Detective and all that. I’m sure you’ve seen his files.”

“You’re trying to say he _doesn’t_ kill people?” Louis might be a _little_ skeptical.

“I’m saying he’s a nice boy.” She shrugged, “Not what everyone thinks he is.”

\----

 _Oh god, he’s a little bit damp still. Oh his hair’s wet, wow it looks good like that. Fucking hell, how does someone look like that? Oh his wounds aren’t as bad as I thought – that’s good. I think I liked him better in jeans, but sweatpants are just fine. He’s such a hipster. I don’t normally like hipsters but this one is good. Wow, I wish I was that fork right now, I want him to put me in his mouth and_ –

“Why’d you just hit yourself?” Harry frowned.

Louis shrugged, looking away and fighting off the blush that flooded his face. Damn his thoughts.

Harry just continued eating from where he sat opposite Louis, having traded places with Babs when he came back from showering; unfortunately, putting him in the perfect place for Louis to stare.

Louis couldn’t stop thinking how insane this was; so unprofessional of him to be crushing on a _fucking_ _criminal_ , especially since he’d been taken fucking captive by him. Sure, he’d had his fair share of work place crushes and flirtations, but he’d never go as far to act on it – shit, he even thought Zayn was hot when they were first partnered up, but he never _actually_ did anything about it, of course.

Now here he was, ogling one of the most wanted criminals in the world. _Fuck_.

\----

“I’m not sharing a bed with you.” Louis stated; voice a little higher than usual.

Harry sighed, “Just get in the fucking bed, Tomlinson,”

Louis shook his head.

So Harry scooped him up, bridal style, and threw him on the bed. Louis’ hands were cuffed in front of him, because it was, “A safety precaution, and I know you’re Detective for a reason,” so he couldn’t catch himself, or really help himself at all – he had to let Harry do it.

Harry smirked down at him, “See, now that wasn’t so hard, was it?”

Louis glared, forcing his eyes off Harry as he took off his shirt, and got in the bed beside Louis, pulling the covers over them both and flicking off the lamp.

Louis squirmed in discomfort. The cuffs were painful on his bruised wrists, and he’d refused to shower or change out of his jeans and button-up, so he was going to have a seriously uncomfortable sleep.

Not to mention, he was sleeping beside a murderer. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one was a bit boring. Ah well.


	3. Miss missing you.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Louis learns a bit about what Harry does.  
> Plus, he finally makes it to TV. Probably not in the way you'd want though...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooooo this is really short because i couldn't decide whether or not i wanted to put it on the end of the last one of just make a new one. Not that it matters... um yeah.  
> Basically a filler.

Louis was in and out of consciousness all night. Night? No, it was day time now, since they’d gone to sleep around six AM. He had managed a solid few hours, though, and when he woke up with Harry’s arm draped over him, he just sighed.

He kept his eyes shut, running through possible scenarios in his head;

-          Harry was keeping him as a hostage, and he’d put a ransom out for him.

-          The police would put out a search for him.

-          Harry would add him to the team.

-          Captain Lestrade would see him as a traitor and a criminal, too.

Louis huffed. None of these sounded all that good.

“What are you thinking about?”

Harry’s soft voice startled him, and he snapped his eyes open, turning his head a little to look; probably a bad idea. Harry looked younger like this; hair all messy, eyes barely half open.

“What are you going to do with me?”

Harry shrugged, curling closer to Louis side, so his face was brushing against Louis’ shoulder now. He thanked God he was wearing a shirt – he’s not sure he could cope with too much skin on skin, “Thought you might want to be on the team.”

“The _team_?” 

“Yeah,” Harry cleared his throat, getting rid of sleepiness, “It’s not just me and Niall, there’s a few others.”

Louis tried to ignore the way he could the vibrations of Harry speaking, “Uh, what do you guys – what do you do?”

Harry chuckled, and it made Louis’ stomach swoop, “People ask for our help, and we give it to them.”

“Help with killing people?”

He felt Harry shrug again, “Not all the time – but people ask us for favors; doing jobs, selling something, killing someone – yeah, and we get it done. We’re consulting criminals.”

Louis snorted, he’d never heard of one of those before. But he understood the concept.

“There’s only a few of us at the top, but we’ve got a lot of people on board.” He admitted.

Louis furrowed his brow, “We thought it was just you.”

“Yeah? You thought wrong. How else would I have gotten in and out of the station so easy?” He said smugly.

Louis visibly tensed, “ _You_ – how… you _wanted_ to be caught?”

“Yeah, ‘course. You didn’t think it was weird you’d never _actually_ had me in custody before?”

“Guess we thought we were lucky.”

Harry smirked, “It’d take more than luck to get me in prison, love.”

They were quiet for another moment. And Louis thought it was oddly comforting – almost… _nice_. But then he remembered the actual situation. He had to do that quite often.

“How’d you do it?”

Harry groaned, like he’d almost been asleep again, “Do what?”

“Get caught – get _out_.”

“I’ve got a few people on the force, and one of my best mates is actually in there. He runs the job with me and Niall.”

Louis racked his brain, trying to think of who’d possibly be traitors amongst the police force. He had a few suspicions; that Max was always a little sketchy, “Who?” he asked, not entirely expecting Harry to tell him the truth. But he asked anyhow.

“Well, uh – you know Tom and Jack? Yeah, well they’re with us.”

Louis actually gaped, he was _friends_ with them.

“And Liam Payne,”

Louis couldn’t breathe all that well. _Liam_ – Officer Puppy Payne? Holy shit. He’d be the _least_ suspected person ever – _hell_ he was the one that _found_ Harry – _oh_. Louis laughed.

Harry sat up now, looking down at him with that stupid curly hair, and a confused expression, “What?”

“Liam, oh _god_ – it’s just… _Liam_ – he’s so _nice_ and well, a little bit daft – but _seriously_? Liam, _shit_.” Louis rambled like a crazy person. Harry was looking at him like he was one, too, which made it even funnier.

“He’s the third founder of our… organization.” Harry added.

Well. Louis didn’t see that one coming at all. His laughter stopped, and he cleared his throat, “Seriously?”

Harry nodded, “Grew up with him. Not that he always likes this whole thing; he’s a bit of a sap really. But he’s good at what he does.”

Louis didn’t really want to know what that was.

Harry clapped his hands together, suddenly full of energy, “Bath time,”

Louis’ eyes widened and it made Harry smirk.

“Calm down, I won’t be joining you – unless, you know, you want that.” Harry looked menacing.

Louis scowled, fighting off blush, “Fuck off. Are you gonna un-cuff me?”

Harry sucked at his teeth, narrowing his eyes in thought, “I suppose I could, as long as you don’t try to shoot me again.”

“No, ‘course not, you’ve just taken me _hostage_ , kept me cuffed _all_ night – no hard feelings at all.” Louis spat sarcastically.

Harry just grinned.

\----

Louis looked at the shower. Then at Harry. Then to his hand-cuffs. Then back at the shower. And back to Harry again.

“Are you going to take these off yet?” he asked, jostling his hands a little.

Harry raised an eyebrow, “You mean your pants? I can if you’d like.”

Louis stared back, giving his best unimpressed look.

Harry laughed, “Alright, Pouty, calm down.” He teased, stepping closer to unlock them.

Where the heck did he pull that key from? Louis was losing his game. He rubbed at his bruised and half raw wrists, glaring at Harry.

“Jeez, you’re sassy.” He muttered, “I’ll be outside the door,”

“Fantastic,” Louis said, sarcasm all but dripping from his mouth.

The shower was _awesome_. The one in Louis’ flat was good – but this was a whole new level. The shower made Louis think – like it does for most people. He wondered if anyone had noticed he was actually missing – if the station cameras had caught Harry cuffing him. Maybe they thought he’d run away with a maniac. He thought about his family, back in Doncaster. His little sisters – his mum – would they see anything on the news? He hoped not.

The thing that surprised him though, was that he didn’t think about how to _escape_. He tried to convince himself it was merely because there was no escape. And that it wasn’t because he didn’t _want_ to.

\----

He was wearing some of Niall’s sweatpants – because Harry’s were far too long – and one of Harry’s band shirts, which was too big anyway – with his hands cuffed _again,_ watching a discussion between Niall and Harry.

“Yeah, but if Jay said the guy wasn’t going to be there, then he’s _probably_ going to be there.”

Harry shrugged, “So? We just shoot him, or knock him out.”

Louis contained a scoff. _Ugh_ , criminals. He turned his attention to the quiet TV, since they’d been waiting to see what the weather was supposed to do – something about a deal, he didn’t care. And as it would, a caption involving a familiar name popped up on the screen.

“Turn it up!” he commanded frantically.

Harry looked at him, and then at the TV, before doing as he was told.

_“…infamous Harry Styles was brought into London police custody last night, after a car chase. However, Styles managed to escape from his cell and the precinct, taking along one of the Detectives as a hostage.”_

Lestrades’ face popped up, _“Harry Styles may be young, but he is very dangerous. We encourage anyone with information on this man to come forward, and assist us.”_

_“Police have said that a full-scale search has been launched, for Detective Louis Tomlinson, as no ransom has been placed for him.”_

It flicked over to sports, and Harry turned it down slightly. No one spoke for a solid minute – until Niall shared his thoughts.

“You fucking _idiot_.” 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapters will be getting longer (still trying to decide how i want my writing structured - bare with me guys) and there will be more things and stuff. I just had to throw this one in there.  
> Because of reasons.  
> Next chapter will be up tomorrow. Well, tomorrow for me anyways (probable time difference).  
> Say hi to Liam next chapter!  
> BYE


	4. We are like young volcanoes.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Liam not-so-angelic Payne.

Liam had been a good child – no, a _perfect_ child. He hadn’t done drugs, gotten drunk (granted, that was because he was lacking in the kidney department) or gotten into any sort of trouble. So when he looks back on his life, and wonders, where it all went wrong, he supposes there wasn’t just _one_ moment.

_“Hello, my names Harry – Harry Styles.”_

Yes. Harry Styles is where the trouble started. He was a good kid – a troubled kid, after being beaten by his father and ditched by his mother, he basically lived with Liam’s family after that. Harry had always been charming and well-mannered, but Liam should’ve guessed he was a bit different after he tried to rob a dairy at age fourteen. He was successful – but, still.

Why didn’t Liam pull away from Harry? Why didn’t he stop being friends with such a bad kid? He figures, his fathers to blame for that one. His father pushed him to do well, you see. He kept pushing, and _pushing_ until – Liam pushed back. At age eighteen, he was nearly as big as his father, and probably stronger – so he pushed back hard enough to send his father through the glass window in his room, and down two stories, onto the pavement. Bad luck? Yes, he thought so too.

Harry heard the crash, came running, told Liam it would be okay and – it was. Harry packed his things, Harry wrote a note, Harry hugged Liam – Harry took the blame.

\----

“Payne.”

Liam looked up from his desk, finding Detective Zayn Malik standing there, watching him – Liam had to pretend he wasn’t just a _little_ bit nervous, “Yeah?”

“You were the one that found Harry Styles, right?” Zayn asked.

Liam nodded, “Yep, that’s me.”

“How’d you get him? Seriously – he got out of his cell, tricked the guards, and basically everyone in the station to leave because someone told everyone he’d escaped and was at the London Eye.” Zayn looked tired, scrubbing a hand over his face, “I just don’t get it. He was smart enough to have this place empty – and yet you say he crashed his car? Why would he go through all that trouble to come and take – _take_ … Detective Tomlinson?”

Liam shrugged, ignoring the _massive_ pang of guilt in his chest, “I don’t know, he’s pretty smart. He probably just wanted to make it look legit, so we didn’t put him into maximum security, and he could get out easy enough.”  He wondered if anyone noticed Harry's file had been changed yet...

“The cell was unlocked – from the _outside_. I heard the Captain talking about traitors –”

Liam’s heart was pounding in his chest. Oh god.

“– in the force, but I don’t know who the fuck would do _that_?”

Liam huffed in relief. Zayn was talking to him because he _didn’t_ think he did it. Good, “I don’t know, mate, but I’m sure the Captains gonna be doing questioning and all that, so they’ll be caught.”

Zayn nodded, eyes shining a little bit and left.

Liam dropped his head onto his desk, panting with relief.

\----

He was still doing paper work an hour after Zayn left – because yes, he was a _fucking_ good actor and he did his paper work to keep up appearances – when his phone rang, startling him.

It was a blocked number, and he figured it was who it always was.

“What?”

“That’s no way to greet your best friend,” he could practically hear Harry’s pout down the line.

“What is it? You going to get me into even more trouble – _Christ_ , mate, taking him with you – _why_ did you do that?”

“He’s pretty and I like him – enough of that, I wanted to ask a favor.”

“I’m so very surprised,” Liam muttered sarcastically, “you want me to grab your record? Oh wait, you _already_ did that.”

“Enough of the jokes Li, you’re terrible at them.”

Liam frowned.

“I want you to grab Detective Tomlinson’s phone – it should’ve been on his desk.” Harry asked.

Liam glanced around, making sure he was alone, and kept his voice quiet, “Uh, you know Malik – his partner probably has it now, right? Or you know, the _fucking police Captain_. Jesus Harry, did you think this through?” Liam scolded, “Why do you even want it – you know it can just be tracked.”

“It wasn’t me who wanted it,” Harry mumbled.

Liam would’ve spat out his drink, had he had one, “You want it because – he _asked_ for it? Haz, he’s supposed to be a _hostage_! Are you – _are you_ –?”

“Liam – I _refuse_ to talk about my sex life with you. But I’ll go ahead and throw a 'no' in there.”

Liam ran a hand through his short hair, “Good. I’d hate to think you just dragged him along so you could screw him.”

“Well…”

Liam sighed, “I don’t want to know. I just hope you know what the hell you’re doing.”

“Alright – just try getting me that phone. Oh, and I think something may’ve arrived for Lestrade in the mail. That guy is _so_ much fun to wind up.”

“Bye Harry.” Liam deadpanned.

Harry sighed dramatically, “ _Fine_! Bye, Li Li.”

Liam considered banging his head on the desk repeatedly this time.

\----

By ten PM, the station was in an uproar once again. But this time, it was because a letter had arrived in the mail for Captain Lestrade. It’d been scanned, and a photo of it was on a projector so Lestrade could point out bits and pieces to those on the ‘Harry Styles’ case. Liam was one of them.

_To: Captain Lestrade and the London Police Force._

_There are two identical soldiers, both exactly the same. However, one is a traitor. So one goes into a tank, and the other goes on foot. The traitor succeeds in killing the army. Which one is the traitor?_

Liam sat in silence, watching the group of people trying to figure out what the letter possibly meant – wondering who on the team could be a traitor. Liam would’ve laughed, had it not made it so obvious.

“Quiet down people!” Lestrade looked tense, jaw clenched and hands balled into fists, “He’s a _kid_ for God’s sake, and he’s trying to make you all paranoid. So stop before he bloody succeeds!” he yelled, before storming from the room.

Harry would be pleased.

\----

Liam reached Niall’s place around midnight, letting himself in – as he had for a few years now, and not surprised to find Niall and Harry playing FIFA, while a hostage sat beside Harry.

Not surprised. No.

“Liam, whaddup!” Niall beamed, pausing the game despite Harry’s protests.

Liam managed a small smile, dropping himself into the couch beside Niall. They fell into an awkward silence, everyone glancing at everyone – but mostly, Liam was looking at Detective Louis Tomlinson.

“This is sufficiently awkward.” Louis deadpanned, probably pissed. Liam couldn’t blame him; he _was_ posing as an officer after all.

“Cheer up, Lou,” Harry teased, patting Louis’ cheek fondly, making him scowl.

Liam inwardly cringed at Harry – he was _so_ gone.

“So how’s things at the precinct?” Harry asked.

Louis scoffed, “Yeah, _officer_ – how’s things at the _fucking precinct_? You know, the one you’re _pretending_ –”

Harry clapped a hand over his mouth, drawing close and whispering something in the older boy’s ear, which made his eyes widen, and shut him up.

Liam wasn’t sure he wanted to know what, so he just cleared his throat, “Um, I didn’t get the phone – sorry, it’s in evidence. U-uh, they got your letter.”

“What letter?” Louis asked.

Harry ignored his hostage, “ _Oh_?” he grinned wickedly, “what’d they think?”

“Everyone’s paranoid, trying to figure out who it is – pointing fingers at each other. Lestrade’s trying to calm them down, but it’s not working too well. He’s just as paranoid.” Liam told them, fiddling with his jacket sleeve.

Harry barked out a laugh, “Fantastic.”

Louis gave him a brief look of disgust, before turning back to Liam, “Zayn.”

Liam didn’t answer – wasn’t sure he could, really.

“Zayn,” Louis swallowed thickly, “is he – what’s he –”

“You want the truth, I suppose?” Liam asked quietly. Louis nodded, so Liam sighed, “He’s not coping, I don’t think.”

Louis scoffed, but his expression wavered and he looked at his hands, cuffed in his lap, “Didn’t think he would be. Doesn’t do too well with unsolved cases.”

Liam wanted to punch Harry.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so this one wasn't the exciting one. But its coming. I pinky swear.  
> I'm excited.


	5. Light 'em up, up, up.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry is clinically insane, and Louis is a stupid sap. They make a deal, of sorts.  
> Boom boom boom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for any grammatical errors, I don't speak English.  
> I'm totally kidding, i do, i'm just illiterate. Or i'm just really tired. Who knows.

Louis didn’t want his phone for any particular reason. Sure, it had all his photos and his contacts saved onto it – not like the new phone Harry brought him. Mostly, it was just because he wanted to be difficult. If he was going to be a hostage – he was going to be the most annoying hostage Harry Styles had ever met.

“Christ Harry, it’s been four days – can’t you un-cuff me now?  It’s not like I can fucking _run_ away, or get the upper hand on you – since you’ve proven you’re a ninja with like, six black belts or whatever.”

Harry huffed a laugh, “I _am_ pretty talented. Stop whining so much, your hands are hardly going to fall off.”

Louis scowled, “Don’t be smug Harry, it’s un-becoming of you.”

They’d moved into a comfortable stage of bantering and teasing – which Louis should really not be happy with. But he was. He wasn’t sure why he’d lost every single Detective quality, and turned into an idiot – but he was fairly certain Harry was to blame.

Okay, _really_ certain.

“Harreh!” Niall yelled, skidding into the kitchen in his socks.

“What?”

Niall raised his eyebrows, looking at Harry expectantly, “Uh – we’ve got a _thing_? Like, right now.” He motioned his hands, for effect, “Did you forget?”

“Fuck,” Harry breathed. 

“You twat,” Niall sighed, “we’ve gotta leave in five, you better be ready.”

Harry looked to Louis, who was sitting there pretending not to pay attention, “What am I supposed to do with him?”

Niall looked at Louis now, shrugging, “I dunno – bring ‘em?”

“I can’t bring him to a fucking _deal_ , Niall! He’s a cop,”

“ _You_ were the one that brought him in the first place, he’s your pet now – lock ‘em inside or bring him along.” Niall grinned, “I’m sure we could find a leash.”

Louis glared. He would’ve decked the fucking leprechaun if he wasn’t in cuffs.

“Shut it,” Harry scolded, “right Lou, you can come – as long as you behave.”

Louis snorted, “What am I gonna _do_?” he gestured to his hand cuffs.

“You’ve probs’ got some tricks up ya’ sleeve – you’re a cop for a reason, yeah?” Niall shrugged.

Louis just smiled condescendingly.

Harry sighed, “Go get in the car – _both_ of you.” 

\----

So here Louis was, sitting in the car with Niall, listening to ‘As Long As You Love Me’ and waiting for Harry to speak to one of their minions, get some information – Louis was eaves dropping, okay? – So they could complete a transaction.

Louis was sitting in a car, with a criminal, watching another criminal do a deal. He was basically committing a felony right now. Louis let out a laugh, causing Niall to turn around and look at him like _he_ was the crazy one.

Maybe he was going crazy?

\----

Things were pretty domestic toward the end of the first week. Louis learnt not to ask many questions – because Harry just wouldn’t answer. Or he’d threaten Louis – sort of; “If you don’t shut up, I’ll had cuff you to Niall,” or one of the scarier ones; “If you keep quiet, I won’t blow up the Catholic school a few blocks over.”

Alright, so things weren’t _entirely_ domestic. Harry was still a maniac, and Louis still thought he was very pretty and wanted to pet his curls. He thinks he may have told Harry that a few nights ago – when Harry kept feeding him shots of rum, getting him to talk about his family back in Doncaster, and how much his best friend was probably missing him right now.

Harry didn’t mention anything the next morning, however.

He played FIFA – which was much harder with his hands cuffed – and he was generally allowed to eat with one hand. Unless Louis swore at either of the boys, in which case Louis had both hands tied behind his back, with Harry hand-feeding him bits of food. Louis managed to bite him a few times, but it turns out Harry was into that.

He liked Harry. He just couldn’t help himself – he was like the chocolate you know you shouldn’t have, but fuck it because life is short and that chocolate tastes _really_ good.

Not that Louis knew what Harry tasted like…

 _Yet_.

\----

It was Tuesday – officially a week later. A week of Louis’ hands in cuffs, a week spent around Harry and Niall, a week sleeping in the same bed as a crazy man, a week of wearing clothes that weren’t his – a week of missing his normal life. He missed being a Detective – he was actually itching to go investigate something, hold a gun – hell, he was missing the _fucking_ paper work! So he decided to take a chance.

“I wanna go home.”

Harry ignored him, carrying on clicking away on the laptop.

“ _Harry_. Let me go home.” He said, voice soft – but not pleading, no. Louis Tomlinson would _not_ beg.

Harry sighed sympathetically, meeting his eye, “How am I supposed to do that Louis? You know too much.”

He bit back the; ‘then kill me, because _this_ is _fucking killing me_ ,’ “I don’t care, Harry – you took me, you can fucking think of something.”

“I took you to keep you,” Harry said calmly, shrugging, “why would I let you go?”

Louis knew to tread carefully, or Harry would snap – or just stay silent, “Why’d you take me in the first place?” He’d asked this before of course, and never got an answer more than ‘because’ or ‘you’re pretty’.

“Because.”

“That’s not good enough.” Louis shook his head, “Tell me why the _fuck_ you took me!”

“Because I _could_!” Harry growled, making Louis flinch. Harry sat the laptop aside, slamming it shut and running a hand through his hair. He laughed, and it made Louis feel cold and sick, “I did it because I _could_. Because I can do whatever the _fuck_ _I want_ – and I saw something I liked, and I _took_ it.”

“You’re like a child,” Louis was quiet, eyes on his hands, “like a little kid in a candy shop. You see something bright and colourful, and you like it – so you automatically think it’s yours.” Louis gritted his teeth, “Well let’s get something straight, Styles’,” he met Harry’s wide green eyes, “I’m _not_ yours.”

They stayed like that; staring each other down for a moment or two. It was heated, and Louis was sure something would spontaneously combust from the tension. Harry was the one to break it.

He nodded, “Alright.” Before standing up and walking out of the room, leaving Louis staring dumbly after him.

Was that progress… or…?

\----

“There is no way in _hell_ you are getting me to do this.” Louis argued – for what had to be the fourteenth time.

Harry looked unimpressed, “Need I remind you how the threatening goes?”

Louis gulped.

Harry had come up with an idea. Louis would come along to a few jobs, help out and do whatever Harry said – and in return he’d get freedom. That way, Harry had a hold over Louis – so if he decided to give up any secrets, Harry would have proof that Louis had committed crimes.

“They’d never believe it – they’d just think you forced me into it.”

Harry shrugged, “It’d probably still get you kicked out of the precinct – or demoted at least.”

He was right, unfortunately. _Hell_ , even just being kidnapped might get him dropped down a few ranks. Louis didn’t want to think about that, he wanted to think about his freedom.

“After all this, you’re just going to let me walk?” Louis asked skeptically.

“You’re hardly any fun like this,” Harry sighed, “plus, you might find you enjoy this line of work.” He grinned.

Louis snorted.

\----

Louis wasn’t allowed to know the full extent of the plan – which was redundant these days, but he wasn’t in a position to argue. He had to wait for Harry to tell him what to do.

“Alright, we’re torching the building.”

Louis nearly choked on his cereal, “ _What_?”

Harry sat down on the stool beside him, laying out some blue prints on the bench in front of them. “The whole thing needs to go – but there’s a safe –”

Of _course_ there was a _fucking safe_.

“– on the second floor,” he pointed at the paper, “that has some files we need, before we blow the place.”

This was so fucking cliché. What was next, robbing a bank? Stealing the Declaration of Independence? Louis just sighed, “So what am I supposed to do?”

Harry smirked, “Well, you and I will be heading into the building. I’ll grab the files, while you set up some explosives.”

Louis gaped, “I’m supposed to plant _bombs_ – how the _fuck_ –?”

Harry shushed him, pointing at a few places, “They need to be here, here and here, in order for it to be basically unsalvageable.”

“That’s morbid.” Louis muttered.

Harry patted his cheek, ignoring when Louis swatted his hand away. “We’re doing it tonight, darling, so suit up.” 

\----

Louis didn’t know what the building was, but it was fancy and business-y. He wasn’t actually _allowed_ to know what the building was. It was just past midnight, and Louis should’ve been sleepy, but he was wide awake and pumped up with nerves. He couldn’t hide his surprise when Harry let him out of his cuffs in the car.

He unlocked them, but before Louis could slip his hands out, Harry grabbed them in a vice-grip, and leaned closer, “You run, or don’t do the job right,” Louis shivered as Harry’s breath tickled his cheek, “and you’ll regret doing so.” He leaned back, letting Louis rub at his raw wrists, before asking; “Understood?”

“Yes _sir_ ,” Louis muttered sarcastically.

Harry grinned, “Good boy.”

“Would you two idiots hurry the fuck up?” Niall groaned dramatically, “We’re on a tight schedule.”

With that, Harry briefed him again.

“You know where you’re going?”

Louis nodded, rattling off what Harry had told him, “First floor; east sector, second floor; north and south, third; west and north sector and –”

“And I’ll be covering fourth and fifth.” Harry smirked, “Good.”

“Good luck, ladies,” Niall said, giving them a salute.

Louis followed Harry out of the Range Rover, and up to the building. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t scared. He was so terrified – terrified that the explosives in the backpack he had would go off on accident – terrified the cops would come – but mostly, he was _excited_.

The doors were unlocked, of course. They had more than a few people working on the inside; cutting alarms and looping security cameras.

“In we go, babe,” Harry said, holding the door open for him. He spared a glance to appreciate how good Harry looked great dressed in all black.

 Louis’ heart was pounding, and his feet were moving on their own accord. He felt like he was back being a Detective – but this was far more thrilling and dangerous.

“Alright,” Harry said, stopping where they were about to part ways, “you all set?”

Louis nodded, “Should be.”

Harry patted his cheek, “Be good, stick to the plan,” he told him before setting off in the opposite direction of Louis.

Louis stared after him, letting out a shaky breath. “Off we go then,” He muttered quietly into the dark building.

\----

He wasn’t in a daze this time. He was focused. Running on pure adrenaline, his footfalls quiet and calculated, and he was setting up bombs like it was in his blood. As he jogged down the pristine halls, making a mental note that this seemed like a law firm, he couldn’t help but think how similar this all was to being a detective.

He set up explosive after explosive; tacking them to the wall, activating them with the code Harry gave him, and trying not to panic and set them off before detonation. He checked his watch, making sure he was good on time and –

His phone rang in his pocket. Well, the phone that Harry had given him (he’d never actually got his phone back).

“Yeah?”

“You nearly done?” It was Harry, of course.

He glanced at his watch again, “Just two more to go.”

“Good. This place goes up in ten, so hurry up.”

Louis swallowed thickly, “Yeah I’ll make it quick.” He wondered if Harry could hear his heart beat.

“There’s a good lad.”

The phone clicked off, and Louis pocketed it with shaky hands. He inhaled and exhaled deeply, trying to sort out his head. _Ten minutes_. “Now’s _not_ the time to get stage fright, Tomlinson.” He growled to himself before taking off again.

He set up the last one, wiping the sweat from his forehead, and thanking the Gods he had steady hands – even when stressed. Glancing at his watch once more, he saw he had two minutes. Two minutes to get out of the building.

He was sprinting before the panic could set in. It’d take him at least five to get back to the ground floor. His phone was ringing in his pocket, and he fumbled with it a few times before he got it to his ear.

“’Lo?” he answered, panting hard.

“Where the _fuck_ are you? This place –”

“A minute, I _know_.” He skidded around a corner, almost face-planting, “I’m running, if you can’t tell.”

“ _Christ_ Louis, you _better_ be down here!” Harry growled, Louis could almost picture him running a hand through his hair, “If it’s any consolation, you sound pretty hot.”

Louis’ legs were numb as he jumped down the stairs, taking four at a time, “I’m running for my _life_ , and you’re _flirting_ with me? Fucking hell, Styles.” It was all a bit muffled, and stutter-y, but Harry seemed to get it.

“Get your perfect ass down here and I’ll do more than just flirt.”

“You’re incorrigible.” Louis scolded half-heartedly. He was on the first floor now, but he had a bit further to go.

“Lou,” Harry voice was strained, “there’s no more time, where –”

The first bomb went off, somewhere higher up, and the force of it made Louis stumble on his feet.

“ _Louis_!” Harry cried, before Louis was pulling the phone from his ear and clutching it tight so his arms could help him go faster.

His legs ached, his chest burned, and he was scared. More and more bombs were setting off, and he almost fell several times. He wouldn’t stop running, though, no – he’d keep going until the end. He thought about his sisters, and his mother. Wondered if they’d feel better knowing he was dead, and not just kidnapped. Wow. Maybe they were right about the whole; ‘you’re entire life flashes before your eyes’ thing.

Things were undoubtedly crumbling behind him, but he wouldn’t look back. It probably would’ve reminded him of Jurassic Park if he wasn’t so caught up in fleeing.

He barely noticed he was bursting through the doors of the entrance room. He could see the darkness of the night through the large glass doors, and he kept running straight for it.

He barreled into Harry, who'd been biting at his nails just outside, and the two of them all but fell into the car. He was panting so hard, his face was soaked with sweat and tears and he was half sitting on a criminals lap. Harry’s hands grabbed at his face, eyes wide and hair messy (from his nervous hands, probably).

“Talk about cutting it close, mother _fuckers_.” Niall muttered in the background, shifting the car into gear.

He was still looking at Harry; Harry was still looking at him.

And then they were kissing.

If Louis could managed a coherent thought, he’d probably think this was the best kiss ever. It was a filthy, R-rated, adrenaline rushed kiss. If you could call it that; it was basically just a clash of lips and tongues, teeth knocking against each other, lips being bitten a bit too hard. Louis hands were grabbing blindly at Harry’s shirt, and Harry was gripping his jaw hard, and dragging him closer with a hand on his bum.

Someone cleared their throat, and they both eased up, pulling back just far enough that Louis could feel the puff of Harry’s breath on his lips.

“Can you guys wait till we’re _away_ from the crime scene to fuck? _Jesus Christ_ – and watch the leather interior you fucking _freaks_.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I like nice people. Be gentle with me guys.  
> Let's just pretend this is all realistic.


	6. I thought of angels, choking on their halos.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Detective Zayn Malik to the rescue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> criminals are stoopid.

“Malik,”

Zayn startled, so engrossed in his work he hadn’t even noticed Captain Lestrade standing beside his desk.

Lestrade motioned him toward his office with a nod.

Zayn followed, wincing as his muscles unlocked, stiff from being hunched over the information – or lack of – they had on Styles’. Didn’t make it better than someone had tampered with half of it – one part had even said; ‘ _Harry Edward Styles – Sex God.’_ Zayn was smart enough to realize Harry had got to it when he was at the precinct.

“Have a seat, Zayn,” Lestrade said, sitting behind his desk, watching as Zayn did as he was told, “you aren’t in trouble, I just wanted to ask a few questions about your partner.”

_Great. Fucking great._

Zayn cleared his throat, “Uh, what about – sir?”

“I take it you’ve seen the video of Harry Styles… _escorting_ Tomlinson out of the building.”

If you mean he’s watched his best friend be dragged through the halls, hand cuffed by a criminal – why then yes, of course. He nodded once. “Yeah, I have.”

“Good. So then would you mind telling me why Style’s would’ve taken him?”

What. “Um – _what_?” 

Lestrade sighed, clasping his hands together, and leaning forward onto his desk. He was watching Zayn carefully. “Can you explain to me, why Harry Styles felt the need to take a hostage – when the station was _basically_ empty? He surely didn’t need him for the escape – and it’s been almost a week with no ransom demands. Seems a little strange, doesn’t it?”

Zayn was a bit dumbfounded, “Uh, with all due respect sir… you’re seriously going to question what that _psycho_ was thinking? I don’t know why the _fuck_ he’d take my best – my _partner_. Tomlinson is clever, and I’ve got no clue how Style’s managed to get him so easy. But there’s no way in _hell_ that he’s the bad guy here.”

Lestrade looked a bit surprised by Zayn’s outburst. He’s not sure he’d ever spoken to the Captain so crudely. But hey, he was a bit of a mess lately.

His best friend had been kidnapped, after all.

\----

Zayn had officially met Louis Tomlinson in high school, when Louis knocked him off his skateboard and told him he had cool tattoos. The boy’s had been the troublemakers of the school, making a name for themselves and spending more time in detention then in class itself. How they both decided to become Detectives? He’s not all that sure.

They were Detectives for a reason, of course. So when Zayn over heard a strange phone conversation  – well, Detective mode may’ve kicked into overdrive.

\--

Zayn had typed ‘Liam Payne’ into every search engine, every police database and every social networking site he had access to – which was basically all of them, considering what a fantastic hacker he was. But he’d never own up to that.

He managed to find nothing on the guy. _At all_. Which was strange – because surely there had to be something about him somewhere. But Zayn couldn’t find it. He found the police profile, which had only a few details; where he was born and grew up, age; nothing extremely important. 

But Zayn was good at hacking. And well – he was not entirely surprised (well, maybe a little) when he had to unblock and crack several pass-codes and firewalls. When he found what he was looking for, well – he shouldn’t have been this daft.

_Geoff Payne murder…_

_Man pushed out window…_

_Cheshire man killed after…_

**Family reeling after father’s murder:**

_Karen Payne and son Liam; are in shock after husband and father, Geoff Payne was thrown out of the houses second-story window, by a teenager and family friend, Harry Styles._

_Police have issued a warrant of arrest for the sixteen-year-old, and would like …_

Zayn kept looking at it. Again and again. _Surely_ this wasn’t happening right now. The traitor in the office was – was – well, Zayn’d never have pegged Liam for a criminals best friend, that’s for sure. Zayn scrubbed a shaky hand over his face, letting out a long breath. He needed a cigarette.

“ _Fuck_.”

\----

He spent a few days mulling it over, feeling horribly ill about the whole thing. How could Liam be so _stupid_ to use his real name? There must be some reason behind it, but Zayn had no clue. And why didn’t he tell the Captain? He was pretty sure Styles’ would find out as soon as he mentioned it, and then flee – with Louis in tow. Or he’d kill Louis… So yeah, he was going to keep this quiet.

He’d been told to go home several times, and while he was on office duty for the time being (until they found his partner, or sorted him out a new one), he was still finding it difficult to work. Difficult because there was a _traitor_ in the room next door – a traitor that kept offering him coffee and talking to him about football. And while Zayn wasn’t a natural born actor, like Louis, he was still capable of keeping a straight face, and accepting cups of coffee. Maybe he’d sniff the cup one too many times, but whatever, he was just checking.

He decided to be brave, and he followed Liam home one night. Only to see him return to a flat in town, one he shared with a curly-haired brunette. By the way they were kissing; Zayn figures she’s more than a friend.

He kept returning to Liam’s flat, checking he was still there. He was hoping Liam would show him where Harry was, but he never seemed to stray far from his flat. Well, until a building was leveled just outside of the city.

_One of the largest law firms, Willbank Law, in London was destroyed around 1:00AM this morning. Bomb squads found remnants of explosives in the building, suggesting someone purposely detonated the firm. Police are yet to find any leads on who may have done this, but would like anyone with any information to come forward as soon as possible._

Liam didn’t bat an eyelash when Lestrade was talking about the bombing. Zayn may’ve been watching him most of the time – he was a little bit paranoid, yes. He followed Liam after work that evening, and almost threw up when Liam started driving out of the city, instead of toward his flat.

He watched as Liam’s car disappeared through large gates, surrounding a house – _mansion_. Zayn’s car was parked far enough away to keep out of sight. He sat there for a solid few hours, inhaling cigarette after cigarette through trembling lips and unsteady hands.

He sighed after flicking his nineteenth smoke out the window. “Time to man up, Malik.” He muttered to himself. And then he was pulling out a computer, overriding the security and heading through the gates. He wasn’t sure what his plan was; with only a hand gun and a packet of smokes on him. But he carried on up to the front door. He paused. Was he just going to knock… or was he supposed to smash down the door…?

Yep, he was knocking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> weeeoooow. sorry for the cliffhanger. this was short. next one up very soon!  
> the end is near.


	7. One maniac at a time, we will take it back.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Niall shouldn't open the door for pretty strangers.  
> It's just one cliche after another.

Louis had been hoping for some extremely rough and messy adrenaline-rushed sex after the demolition. But Louis hadn’t been getting what he wanted for a while now.

Harry and Niall led the way into the house, Louis trailing close behind. They were discussing loose ends, other involved parties, and something about pints. Maybe that was just Niall, actually. Harry was cold and closed off, and kept sparing quick glances at Louis. Louis saw them, of course, because he was constantly watching Harry.

He was ignoring what the other boys were talking about, eyes trained on Harry. He was taking inventory, he tells himself (it sounds better than staring). Harry didn’t look like a thug. He looked like he belonged in GQ – or maybe at the highest room of the tallest tower… but Louis wasn’t going to get into that.

Harry didn’t even sleep in the same room as him tonight; which was strange, since he’d spent every night a few inches away from Louis thus far. He didn’t bring up the fact that Harry’d left his hand cuffs off either, but he was glad about that.

He didn’t sleep as soundly as he should’ve though.

\----

The bombing was all over the news, and something other than utter guilt blossomed inside Louis. But he was going to stop on that spark, and grind it into the ground so no one ever saw it. His bad boy days ended along with high school.

Harry was still being a wanker. Even Niall had noticed, and Louis had heard him mutter something along the lines of: ‘ _Stop being a pansy, you curly-haired tosser_.’ Louis played along though, until later than evening, when Louis asked for the remote (still no hand cuffs, but he wasn’t going to bring that up) and as Harry passed it over – eyes purposefully averted – their fingertips brushed. Harry physically recoiled, sending the remote to the floor with clatter.

“For _god’s sake_ , Harry!”

Harry froze, looking like a deer in the headlights.

Louis folded his arms defensively, curling further into the plush couch. “What the _hell_ is wrong with you?”

Harry swallowed, and Louis could just see the lie forming. “Um, I don’t –”

“Don’t.” Louis spat, “I’ve got _no_ idea why you’re acting like a right prick, but it started after the kiss. Did I give you leprosy or summat? _Christ_.”

Harry clasped his hands in his lap, looking down at them. He resembled a scolded child. “No.” He sounded like one too.

Louis raised an eyebrow, gesturing a hand in front of him. “What is it then? Do share with the class.”

Harry shrugged, still not meeting Louis’ eye.

“ _Oh my god,_ how are you even a _criminal_?” He muttered under his breath before clearing his throat. “Don’t be like that Harry; I just want to know what’s wrong.” He swallowed any sarcastic comments. “Did I –”

“Nothing,” Harry cut him off quickly, “nothing’s wrong, I just – _um_. I-I –”

“Spit it out, Harold.” Louis tried to sound encouraging, but it was more pissy.

Harry glared at him. “ _Fuck off_ , Lou, you don’t even know what I’m trying to say.”

Louis gave him an unimpressed look. “You got stage fright? You’re into girls? Can’t get it up? You’d rather –”

“I like you.” Harry blurted.

Louis stared at him. “I know you like me. You’ve told me more than a few times, you know. ‘ _Why’d you take me from the station, Harry?_ ’” He said in a sweet voice, “‘ _Because I like you, Louis, because I when I like things I take them, hear me roar_.’” He mimicked in a deeper voice, gesturing wildly. He liked to be a little over dramatic.

“I do not sound like that.” Harry whined, “Besides, that was just me saying I liked you because you’re pretty.”

“What? So now you like me for-realsies?” He snorted. “The infamous criminal Harry Styles, crushing on a Detective – god they’ll be writing stories about this.”

“Stop making fun of me, I’m trying to be honest.” Harry said, looking hurt.

Louis felt a little dejected. This was _not fucking middle school_ , and Harry was _not_ the prettiest girl in all of the classes. He was entirely sure how to handle this. But the truth was not the right way to go – _no_ it was _not_ – “I like you too.” He mentally slapped himself. The truth was never a good idea.

Harry looked at him, green eyes wide. Then he beamed, looking like a little kid that’d just been offered all of the chocolate in the universe. Probably not a good thing.

Fortunately, they were interrupted.

“Hazza?”

Harry’s eyes didn’t leave Louis, but he called out. “In the lounge, Li,”

Offic –

Well. Louis was still getting used to that.

Liam wandered into the room a few moments later, clearly just come from work – if the uniform was anything to go by. Louis sort of hated him. He didn’t look too happy though. “Haz, you know there was a civilian casualty at Willbank, yeah?”

Louis felt considerably sicker.

Harry shrugged half heartedly at that, “It happens.”

“You couldn’t have checked the streets first? _Jesus_ Harry.” Liam said, exasperated, running a hand through his buzzed hair.

“Thought you guys killed people all the time, anyways.” Louis asked.

Harry snorted. “’Course you would think that.”

Liam stepped in before Louis could retort, “Not innocent people,”

“ _Oh_ ,” Louis scoffed, throwing his hands in the air in a huff, “well _that_ makes murder _so_ much better.”

“Ignore him.” Harry said, ignoring Louis’ scowl. “Is that all you came to say, Liam?”

Liam shook his head, and dropped onto the arm chair farthest away from Louis. Wise choice. “Niall said something about the Portman job?”

This is the part where Harry gives Louis a pointed look, and he tunes out – or at least, pretends to – and watches whatever’s on TV.

Oh look. The Simpsons.

\----

Harry and Liam were still talking, but now Niall had joined in. It felt oddly normal, all four of them sitting in the lounge; eating pizza, watching football and drinking beer. Okay, Niall was drinking most of the beer; something about Liam’s kidneys, and Harry’s medication. But Louis felt left out – like they were all friends, and he was an outsider. He was, really. But he still wanted someone he knew, someone he could talk to and –

There was a knock at the door. Everyone went silent.

“I didn’t invite anyone over.” Niall stated; voice hushed and serious.

Liam looked to Harry, wide-eyed. “Who knows about this place?”

Harry shook his head. “No one,”

Niall stood. “I’ll get it. Keep quiet.” He told them, heading toward the door.

There was a security panel in a few feet before the door. If Louis leaned back a little further on the couch, he could see Niall checking the cameras. He glanced back at Harry, who was giving him a stern look; one that said: ‘ _Keep quiet or you die_.’

“Hey, can I – _hot damn_.” Louis rolled his eyes at Niall’s greeting. It was probably some girl he’d picked up sometime. “Do I know you? Cause I feel like I should. Let’s get have a drink, yeah?”

“I don’t think so, mate.”

Louis almost fell off the couch, springing to life. “ _Fuck, fu – oh god_.” He was barely even whispering, his voice so high-pitched and soft.

He knew that voice _far_ too well. Hell, he’d been friends with its owner since high school.

Harry leapt up with him, grabbing at him. “What are you _doing_?” He hissed.

He was in panic mode. _Fuck_. Yes he was. Harry would probably kill him. “ _Please_ , Harry – you can’t.” he begged, even though Harry’s face clearly said he had no idea what Louis was on about. But Louis kept babbling, so Harry clapped a hand over his mouth, holding him tight so he could listen in.

“So what can I help you with, beautiful?” Niall was asking.

“I’m looking for someone, reckon he might be here.”

“And who might that be?” Niall’s tone had gone from sweet and flirty, to hostile in a heartbeat. Impressive. “No one else here, mate.”

“Think you might be lying, yeah?”

Louis jumped when he heard a thud. Harry held onto him tighter, only to shove him forwards, whispering, “ _Go_ ,”

They didn’t get more than a few before Zayn was striding (he sort of looked like he was doing a runway show) round the corner, hands in the pockets of his leather jacket; looking more like a panther, than a police detective. His expression didn’t falter when he spotted Louis. Well, Harry holding Louis. Nor did he seem surprised to see Officer-traitor-Liam standing there like an idiot.

“Evening.” Zayn drawled.

The other three were frozen. Louis was probably more surprised than when he’d been kidnapped in the first place. “Surprise,” Louis squeaked indignantly.

Zayn gave him a scrutinizing look; that made him feel mildly uncomfortable. And scared. Zayn was scary.

“I’d like to say I know what’s going on here, but I don’t. Wanna’ enlighten me?” Zayn asked, eyebrows raised.

Liam cleared his throat, standing straighter. “My name is Liam –”

Zayn waved him off. “Save it, I know about you.”

Liam nodded slowly. “Well… alright.” He glanced between the three of them. “Um, I’ll go check – _um_ , Niall. I’m gonna check on Niall.” He hesitated, like he was asking permission. With a nod, Zayn let him go.

Louis pried himself out of Harry’s grip. “This is, _um_ – not what it looks –”

“Finish that, and I swear to _god_ ill punch you.” Zayn threatened. “In the balls.”

Louis held in a smile. It’d probably ruin Zayn’s frightening demeanor. But he’d missed his best friend every fucking day. He wasn’t going to cry. Probably.

“I suppose you want him back.” Harry said. His tone made Louis shudder – this was criminal Harry; psychotic, murderer, maniac Harry. 

“I suppose.” Zayn could pass as a psychopathic murderer right now too.

“We um – I’m not a… I’m not _really_ a hostage?” Louis couldn’t find words.

Zayn and Harry both looked at him like he was the insane one.

He looked at Harry. “ _Well_ , I’m not.” He held up his unshackled hands. “Clearly,”

Harry narrowed his eyes at Louis’ hands. Like he’d _actually_ forgotten he hadn’t put cuffs back on him in a few days. And this man was supposedly on the most wanted list. _Christ_.

Zayn furrowed his eye brows. “So then why’re you here?”

Louis sucked at his teeth nervously. “Um,” He looked to Harry, who just shrugged unhelpfully.

“ _Oh_ shit.” Zayn blurted, looking between the two of them. “You _didn’t_ – oh Lou, _please_ tell me you didn’t.”

Louis blushed, but he scowled at his partner. “Didn’t what, _Malik_?” he spat.

Zayn smirked.

“You’re partners funny, I like ‘em.” Harry stated.

Zayn raised an eyebrow at Harry. “Can’t say the same about you, mate, no offence. What, with the kidnapping and all that.”

Harry shrugged, “Fair enough.”

Louis face palmed. “Are you two both teenage girls? _Jesus_ – I should be prying bullets out of the both of you.” He shook his head. “Harry’s letting me go. Aren’t you, Harry?”

“Yeah, ‘spose.” Harry sounded a little regretful. Louis tried to ignore it.

 “See? No need to –”

“You aren’t going to turn him in, are you?” Zayn asked, more like a statement.

Louis swallowed thickly; sparing a glance at Harry before looking at his feet. “No, I don’t think I am.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> only got a few more chapters planned! im cutting this too short for my liking, but i am heading overseas and i will never finish it if i dont do it now! eek.  
> i love everyone who writes nice things. you give me warm fuzzies.  
> xoxo


	8. I want the guts and glory, baby.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Louis needs to stop moping and make a decision.

He’d been home four days now. Harry didn’t even tell him to keep quiet; he just sat back and watched Louis leave with Zayn. There was no; ‘I’ll be seeing you,’ or ‘Can I have your number?’ Louis just left – and Harry let him. So, he’s been out of Niall’s place for four days. He figures he should tell someone. Anyone. But he’s just been sitting in his flat, ordering pizza and getting pestered by Zayn. He should tell the Captain. Tell him so Louis can be plastered all over the news, interrogated and forced to tell everything he knows. He thought about telling the truth – telling everyone how Harry made him commit a crime. How Harry kept him prisoner and – and well. Made Louis like him.

 Yeah, maybe not.

\----

“You seriously need to get out of here.” Zayn told him, looking around the dimly lit room with mild disgust.

Almost six days back home, and Louis still hadn’t told anyone.

He sighed dramatically. “Outside brings me no joy.”

Zayn rolled his eyes. “Stop being a drama queen. You could come out with me and Niall if you want?”

 _Oh_ , there was that too. Aside from the fact that their first meeting had Niall knocked out cold in his own entrance way – the two were pretty fucking cute together. Louis should really disapprove of Zayn dating a criminal. But he wasn’t really in a position to judge.

“No,” Louis said, folding his arms and curling into his bed further. “Just leave me alone to die.”

Zayn sighed loudly. “You are insufferable.” He growled, and muttered: “ _Fucking dramatic little school girl, see you when you decide to grow some balls_.” Before storming out of the flat.

Maybe Louis needed to stop sulking. Maybe he should just call Harry. Maybe he should just call into work. Or maybe he could just stay in bed for longer.

\----

Seven days back home. His family still didn’t know he was alive, neither did the station. He was starting to eat old packets of noodles, and he ran out of coffee yesterday. He was curled up on the couch, wrapped in blankets, watching re-runs of Doctor Who. There’re only so many times you can watch Donna leave.

“David Tennant’s the best Doctor, I reckon.”

Louis most certainly did _not_ scream like a little girl. How Harry had managed to sit himself on the couch adjacent to Louis without him noticing – he’ll never know. “What the _fuck_ are you doing here?”

Harry shrugged, picking at his jeans. “Haven’t seen you in a while, thought it was time for a visit.”

“Yeah, I missed you too.” Louis mumbled into his blankets, blushing.

Harry grinned, eyes still on his pants. Damn he looked good. “And Zayn may’ve told me you were huddled up in your flat, avoiding humans and sunlight,” He grazed his eyes over Louis, taking in his blanket cocoon and tired face, “looks like he was telling the truth.”

“ _Bastard_ ,”

“So,” Harry drawled. “you gonna let anyone know you’re out? Or can I kidnap you again?”

Louis may or may not’ve been turned on by that. “Haven’t decided,”

“You should probably decide soon.” Harry said, eyes on the Doctor. “’Cause we’re wasting precious fucking time.”

Louis choked on his spit. Actually choked. “W- _what_?!” He spluttered.

Harry beamed, like he’d been hoping for that exact reaction. “I mean, hurry up and get out of your cave, and go back to work.”

Louis willed his blush to piss off. “If I go back to work, I’ll be expected to arrest you.”

“You _really_ think you could?” Harry asked rhetorically.

“I’d find a way to get your ass in cuffs again.” Louis said through gritted teeth.

Harry smirked. “I’m not even gonna point that one out.”

“Oh – _fuck off_.” Louis blushed. “What are you even doing here? Don’t you have puppies to kick, or purses to snatch?”

Harry clutched at his chest dramatically. “You wound me.”

Louis glared.

“I was just popping in to say hi.” Harry shrugged. “And try get some action. But I can see you’re _far_ too busy wallowing in your own self-pity.” He stood up, stretching. Louis couldn’t help but rake his eyes up and down his long legs and torso. Hot _damn_. “Call me when you want to do something _fun_.” He called before walking out of the flat, leaving Louis too hot and very confused. 

\----

He made his decision in the place that all life-changing decisions are made.

In the shower.

\----

_Over two weeks after Harry Styles’ was arrested, and escaped from the London Police Precinct, the Detective he took hostage, Louis Tomlinson has escaped safe and sound from Styles himself._

_“Detective Tomlinson is to under-go further interrogations about the criminal, but we’re just glad to have one of our best back.” A fellow officer told us._

_It’s uncertain as to how Tomlinson escaped Styles’ clutches, but we’re sure it wasn’t easy. Welcome back, Detective._

_\----_

To say everyone was surprised; was an understatement. When Louis walked into the Precinct, all eyes had been on him. Lestrade questioned him frantically, and a few hugs were shared. He assured them he wasn’t in need of a medical exam, and Lestrade said he’d like him to take some time off before he came back in. Little did they know, he’d had time off all fucking week.

He knew he’d be poked and prodded into spilling everything he knew. So far all he’d said was that he’d escaped on his own, and Styles hadn’t been cruel – which everyone was surprised at. They probably thought he was lying. He despised all his fellow workers, the way they said Harry’s name like he was insane. He wanted to scream at them – and possibly shoot them.

 Zayn played his part very well, and dove back into his work, eluding any questions directed at him. Liam was still there – and Louis wasn’t bitter about that. He was rather relieved, actually. Liam was still a puppy, after all, despite being a criminal in disguise.

Harry stayed quiet, and he and Niall laid low. Their names didn’t pop up in conversation after about a week, and Louis was glad. He hated feeling like he wanted to murder his fellow colleagues for saying shit about his – well his – _his_ Harry.

\----

Louis hadn’t spoken to Harry since he broke into the flat. He’d been back at the station for a week now, and people were starting to stop walking on egg shells around him. He and Zayn weren’t given anything other than paperwork though, and it made Louis on-edge and twitchy. In all honesty, Louis didn’t want to do detective work. He wanted to break into some more buildings.

It was nearing midnight, and Louis was exhausted. Exhausted from life. He stood, stretching and yawning loudly. He and Zayn were the only ones in the room. “You want some coffee?”

Zayn shook his head, eyes on his work. “Nah, I’m good.” He said, words muffled by the pen resting between his teeth.

Louis continued out of the room, toward the staff room, not all that surprised when someone was in there, sifting through shitty celebrity gossip magazines. He cleared his throat. “I’m getting a strange sensation of déjà vu.”

Harry looked up at him and grinned. “Hi.” He let his feet slip off the table, where they’d been resting, and stood, making his way toward Louis and stopping a few feet away.

Louis would be lying if he said he wasn’t watching Harry’s legs in those skinny jeans. _Really_ skinny jeans. “Can I help you? Or do you just want to spend a while in a cell.”

Harry smirked. “You could help me _plenty_.”

Louis rolled his eyes, despite the warm fuzzy feeling stirring inside him. “You’re terrible.”

Harry shrugged, as if to say; ‘ _What can ya’ do_?’

“You do realize there are people still here, right?” Louis asked.

Harry nodded, “Yeah, course.”

“ _So_ ,” he drawled, “you’re just an idiot then?”

Harry smirked again. “Wanna get out of here?”

“ _Oh god yes_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *sobs* i love you nice people. i really do.  
> only one more!


	9. Put on your war paint.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A few months later...

**EPILOGUE**

 

“You alright there, Lou?”

Louis fiddled with his ear piece. “Always,”

“Good, you need to get out of there ASAP.” Zayn’s voice crackled through the speaker.

Louis made sure the files were secure in their holder.

“Will do, Bad Boy.”

Zayn sighed. “That’s a terrible nickname.”

Louis couldn’t help the laugh that escaped, and made his way back through the door he’d come through. The building was emerged in darkness; aside from the moonlight coming through the large windows, there was no source of light.

“Boo, where are ya’?” Harry’s voice came over the radio.

Louis ignored the nickname. “I’m just heading back down, where are you?”

“I’ve got the flash drive, so I’ll be on my way.”

“Copy that, Baby Cakes.” Louis said and continued down the halls. He paused when he heard something. It sounded like footsteps. He tried to listen, but couldn’t hear anything more. He called Harry back up, on the intercom. “Haz?” He kept his voice hushed.

“Yeah?” 

“Where are you – I think I heard something.” He whispered.

Harry was quiet for a moment too long. “I’m on the third floor, I can’t hear – _shit_. Where are you?”

“Second floor.”

There was some muffled sounds, before Harry was saying: “Get your ass up here _now_ , I think it’s a squad.”

Louis spun on his heel, gapping it back up the stairs, keeping his footfalls as silent as possible. Fuck. _Fuck_ – holy fuck. “I’m heading back up.”

“Good. Hurry up.”

Louis chest was burning by the time he reached the third floor, trying to find Harry. Now he could make out muffled sounds of a team downstairs. He knew what he was listening for, after all.

“Mate, you almost up with Harry?” Zayn voice came through. He sounded stressed. Not a surprise, really.

“Yeah, just trying to –”

He was cut off by someone catching his arm, hauling him into another torso with an ‘ _oof’_. He shoved Harry, who was grinning madly. “ _Idiot_.”

Zayn laughed. “Guess you found him then.”

“That he did, boss – now can you get us _the fuck_ outta’ here?” Harry said.

“Yeah, give me a sec. _Uh_ ,” there were sounds of fingers hitting computer keys, “I put a grappling hook in Louis’ pack.” Harry’s hands were on him, forcefully turning him around and unzipping the pack. “Use that to get across to the building across from you. There should be a clear target if you go through the window in the office you’re just outside of.”

Harry fiddled with the hook, while Louis opened up the office, heading over to the window. “Harry, hurry up.” He growled.

Harry glared, following him over.

“Yeah, you two ladies might wanna hurry the _fuck_ up. SWAT’s only a floor below.” Zayn told them.

Harry sighed, still trying to set up the hook. “Isn’t Liam with them anyway?”

Both Zayn and Louis scoffed at that. “Like Liam could defend us from a _fucking_ SWAT team, you tosser.” Louis said, slapping his hands out of the way and snatching the grappling hook off him, setting it instantly.

Harry smiled at him sweetly. “Liam’s pretty fantastic.”

“Not fantastic enough, _babe_ ,” Louis poked out his tongue.

Harry gave him a quick kiss. “Shoot it, baby.”

They opened up the window, and Louis shot the hook across the road, hooking it onto the railing of the building’s rooftop. They slid across it, Louis first – because Harry’s a gentleman, and sprinted across the rooftop, down the fire escape and into the strategically parked black SUV.

“’Bout _fucking_ time – what were you _doing_? Having a tea party?" Niall growled, starting up the car.

Harry cooed. “Aw Nialler, were you _worried_ about us?”

Niall threw something blindly – possibly a snap back. “Don’t you two fucking mess up my seats. Do you _know_ how much it cost to clean the Range Rover interior after the Lerman job? _Fucking idiots_.”

\----

_Several million dollars was taken from Syco-corp founder, Simon Cowell’s bank accounts after someone broke into the organization last night, stealing codes and bank information. The suspected thieves are the infamous duo, Harry Styles and Louis Tomlinson. The police urge anyone with information, or who saw anything to come forward._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Figured i'd add this one now as well.   
> This was my first chaptered fic, and the longest one i've added. So thank you so so much to everyone who read this and said nice things! It means a lot. I'm sorry it ended so quickly, but i'm off to the UK in two days, so I won't be back on for a while.   
> Thank you, you lovely people :)


End file.
